The Price of Greed
by Mythicalnightguard
Summary: Jedediah is taken during one of the museum's open late nights by a money hungry collector bent on selling him. With the threat of the sun hanging over him, Ahkmenrah is able to expand the Tablet's power long enough to keep him alive until he's found. But can he be found before he's lost to the world and the museum's secret is revealed? Can he survive his captivity? No/
1. Chapter 1

This plot came courtesy of StoryWriter2003. Though the story is ambitious, it should hopefully turn out well. Please review and tell me what you think so I can inform StoryWriter2003 of how great the plot was!

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Sitting behind an old wooden desk surrounded by papers and old artifacts sat a slightly plump man in an ugly tuxedo with a cigar in his mouth, browsing through the internet on different museum websites while a landline phone rang in his ear. A voice on the other end answered, and the man spoke in a rough, gruff voice, still viewing the different websites that came up on his search bar.

"I'm getting your precious artifacts," The man said, taking the cigar from his lips and tossing it aside.

"When?" Came the reply from the phone.

"Soon. Very soon. Listen, you haven't yet told me what it is you want. You wanna give me an idea so I don't disappoint you?"

A scolding laugh came through the phone, and then the voice said; "Aw, disappoint, disashmoint. Your business' been going downhill ever since it first started. I've seen women perform better in this line of work. Now listen, just get me something...unusual. Something most people wouldn't have. Something I can make money off of…..Have you tried the Museum of Natural History?"

"What, that dump?"

"I've heard tell it's full of strange things. Why don't you go and….look into that. And remember, I expect my item by the middle of next month. You got that?"

"Ah yes, I've got that."

With that, the man hung up the phone, and went back to his computer. He typed the name into the search engine, and smiled as the home page came up. Quickly, he grabbed his keys and his coat, and hailed a taxi. He was going to get his share one way or another.

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Jedediah smiled as he breathed in the fresh scent of evening, enjoying the few minutes Larry opened the window in the hall before the guests arrived. It was a normal night, like any other, with all the exhibits, big and small, preparing for their usual routines and tour roles. Some were assigned as guides for the evening, others were preparing weapons and props for battle reenactments, while a few were enjoying their usual stroll about, as they had been instructed to do.

As he took another deep breath of the cool night air, a noise caught Jedediah's attention. The usual creaking and moaning from the wooden stands that held the Roman catapults had ceased, and the sound of footsteps came across to meet him on the edge of his diorama. He turned to see Octavius step up beside him, smiling a greeting as he stood in silence, waiting for the announcement that went out every night from Teddy ordering everyone into position.

"So. Another night." Octavius said, watching across the way as the Mayans prepared their dummy targets for their nightly dart practice.

"Yup. Another night." Jedediah replied. He then couldn't help but laugh a little, thinking back to the first night of Larry's grand plan for the museum. "Remember that first night, when we reopened?"

"Of course. It was…..quite an adventure, was it not?"

"It was definitely an adventure. Like when Gigantor tried 'ta train Rexy 'ta move in that pattern? That overgrown lizard didn't like it one bit."

"No he did not." Octavius agreed.

They were silent for a while, until Teddy's voice blared on the intercom that it was time to get into position.

"Well, see ya after work pardner," Jedediah said, smiling at his friend as he walked back to the tunnel which led to his own exhibit.

"I shall see you too. At the car, correct?"

"At the car. An' don't be late!"

Smiling his usual smile when he was in a good mood, Jedediah rounded up his men and gave the usual nightly pep talk, and dismissed them to their instructed stations. Larry, too busy micromanaging the bigger exhibits, had left the miniature leaders to their own style of organization, and even let them decide what would be featured each night. This evening, Jedediah had split the people up into groups, who were to demonstrate a number of different things. They had something for everyone. For the mothers among the visitors, they had the western women teaching about cooking and childcare, and for the men, lessons on weaponry and target practice. And for the little ones, which Jed loved and hated, (loved since they were always so curious, and hated because they were also very keen on touching), a little rodeo reenactment for their entertainment.

A loud rumbling came from the next exhibit over, and Jedediah couldn't help but grin wider. This evening Octavius had decided to do an artillery demonstration, which was, in all honesty, one of the trademarks of the hall, and the museum itself. It was definitely something to see. Unfortunately, Jedediah was unable to witness it because he had his own work to do, but the Roman had promised to show him the awesomeness and might of Roman weaponry on their next night off.

"Mommy! Mommy look!" Came a child's squeaky voice as he dragged a middle aged woman towards the exhibit.

_It's showtime. _Jedediah thought to himself. He and the others quickly got into position, and waited patiently for the two to make it to the exhibit. "Welcome 'ta the Wild Wes-"

"Mommy! I want to see the armored people!" Shouted the little boy excitedly.

Jedediah sighed as they walked past. Well, he couldn't compete with artillery night in Rome. "Alright boys," He said, turning to face his men. "Guess we're just gonna have 'ta go back 'ta basics. We ain't got much of a crowd this evenin', with the Romans bein' all fancy 'n such. Ladies, ya'll take five."

As the people began dispersing, a shadow suddenly fell over the exhibit. A few of the people stopped and gasped, not in shock, but in excitement, while others ran to their posts. They had a visitor. Jedediah turned around, and stared up at a slightly balding man in a tuxedo, looking down with no expression on his face. Being the professional exhibit he was, Jedediah put on his best smile, and tipped his hat to the visitor.

"Greetin's pardner. An' welcome 'ta the Wild Wes-"

Suddenly, before he had time to finish, a giant hand came at him, and he raised his hands futilely in defense, but was powerless to stop the gripping hand that clasped him tightly. The people below him screamed and fled, which surprisingly attracted no attention from any of other visitors. Jedediah struggled helplessly, and before he could shout for help he was shoved into the man's coat pocket, and the light was blocked from his eyes as the man buttoned up the pocket, and casually walked away from the exhibit, unnoticed. Or so, he thought. He failed to notice the small pair of eyes that witnessed the whole scene. But he had his prize.

As the tiny cowboy struggled to free himself from the tangle of fabric and lint, he heard the unmistakable sound of car doors, and the muffled voices of a man as he felt the vehicle's vibrations. He felt the vehicle- he figured it was probably a taxi -lurch forwards, and then speed off down the road. And in that dark, smoky smelling pocket, Jedediah could only imagine what lay ahead of him. And he knew it wasn't going to be good.


	2. Chapter 2

As Octavius paused momentarily from giving orders to watch the man leave, he couldn't suppress the growing suspicion that something was wrong. But with the man in question now gone, he shook the idea away and went back to commanding the men preparing the catapults for their all too famous artillery show. That is, until one of his men ran up to him panting breathlessly, which was not in script, and began speaking in a swift slurry of words.

"Sir!" He said urgently, trying to calm himself enough so the little exchange didn't look strange to the spectators who stood excitedly above them. "Word from the West!"

"What is it?" Octavius questioned, the suspicion returning as he listened intently, trying to make it seem to the expectant audience that this was part of the show.

"We have a code blue. Their leader has been taken."

_Jedediah! _Octavius thought, though he refrained from saying it. "Spread the word. Tell Marcus to take a team out to find Larry, and tell anyone you see we have a code blue situation. This is serious, and it is crucial we do this as simply and believable as possible."

The soldier walked away slowly, which was rather painstaking for Octavius, since Jedediah's abductor was probably already outside the walls of the museum. But it was necessary as to avoid more dangers with the people who watched with puzzled expressions as the tiny men below them began acting, well, strange.

The museum had a very special way of passing the word amongst the exhibits if something went wrong, and had different color codes to symbolize certain situations, and ways to fool the people from the outside world into thinking there was a problem with wiring and controls and whatever else they thought powered the marvelous exhibits. In the event of a code blue, the most serious emergency, as it meant the Tablet's secret was in danger, and everyone was to take immediate action.

The word was passed very simply, without any suspicion from the visitors. Since the alert started in Rome, one of the cavalrymen would fly a blue ribbon, which would alert the other two dioramas of the situation. The cowboys, with their own way of alerting their fellow exhibits, would fly a blue flag over one of their buildings, which in turn would alert the Mayans, who didn't really care about any of the other exhibits, but knew enough that a code blue was bad, and would have a few of their warriors painted blue parade around the exhibit.

If the miniatures were lucky, than the bigger exhibits, who had been trained to detect these minor shifts, would notice and pass the word their own way. The Civil War men would fly a blue flag, and the Huns, who were either doing a story or magic tricks, would pull out a blue handkerchief. And even the animals understood the color meanings. A monkey with a blue tipped tail meant they were to "act broken," and "stop working." Eventually, the message would meet Larry who, with his right hand men Teddy and Ahkmenrah, would tell everyone that there was a system malfunction and the museum was closing early.

All around the museum, the exhibits that were thought to be controlled somehow suddenly stopped working. The miniatures, who would have been walking around about their nightly routines, were to stop working immediately and "freeze" in place, while the animals were to stop roaming and "freeze" as well, along with the statue exhibits, like the Moi statue lovingly referred to by all as Dum-Dum, and Rexy, who was to slump down as if broken. And the exhibits who people presumed to be "actors" were to act confused and explain that the "controls" had gone out.

Sure enough, the message had reached Larry, as his voice could be heard over the intercom; "_Ladies and gentlemen, due to technical errors with the system the museum is now closing early. All complaints will be taken and refunds will be given at the front desk. Thank you."_

As the people began filing out of the various rooms and halls, the "controlled" exhibits remained as still as possible until the last person had left, and then finally moved once again, shifting sore muscles and gathering in the main entrance area to hear what was the matter. But first, thanks to Marcus and the small team he'd assembled, Larry was going to the Hall of Miniatures to check out the situation right at its roots.

"Octavius," The night guard said, jogging up to the display as soon as he entered the room. The Roman general turned from reassuring his own people at the sound of his voice, and stepped to the lip of his exhibit to face Larry, who was squatting low as to easily converse with the smaller man.

"Larry," The Roman replied with a slight bow.

Larry noticed he looked rather upset, and a little worried, and decided that it was best to speak quickly as to not waste precious time. "I got the message. Is everything okay?"

Octavius shook his head, and tried hard to keep down the panic that threatened to explode within him. "Jedediah has been taken by one of the visitors. A man, a very short man, old, but with enough youth to pull off such a heist, very dressed up, fancy." The Roman paused, shaking as he struggled to keep the panic under control. "And...and he took Jedediah…"

"Alright." Larry said, showing no fear as it would surely spread to the other exhibits and cause havoc. He took a moment to walk over to the Western diorama, and questioned a few cowboys, only to find he was given the same story and description. He went back to the Roman diorama and lowered his hand for Octavius to walk on, and gave a sharp order to everyone else to stay put until he returned.

He hurriedly made his way down the hall, and waded through the tide of exhibits that had gathered in the main room, and set the Roman general down on a stack of papers as he took up the small microphone and spoke.

"Alright. You're all aware there's a code blue situation, and that the museum has abruptly closed. Now. The reason is very serious, but I want everyone to stay calm and take this without too much panic." He paused, and waited for the murmuring to settle before continuing. "Jedediah has been taken."

A shocked gasp ran through the startled exhibits, and anxious murmuring filled the room as they discussed the matter amongst themselves. Most of the exhibits didn't understand what Larry was saying, but they all knew the cowboy, and understood enough to know the trouble he was in and worry.

"Settle down, please. We're going to think of something, but until then I want you all on high alert in case the man who took him is still around. Meeting dismissed. Teddy, Ahk, could you please meet me here by the desk?"

Waiting on the stack of papers, Octavius was finding it hard to keep his worry in, and the fear he felt for his friend's safety was overwhelming him as he could only imagine what was happening to him at that very moment. Larry noticed, and gently rubbed his back reassuringly.

"Everything's going to be okay," He said, smiling slightly. "We'll find him."

A moment later Teddy and Ahkmenrah were before them, and Larry laid out the description of the man. "Short, in a tuxedo, with greying hair, and that's about all." He said, upset he couldn't give better description.

"What do we do, Lawrence?" Teddy asked, looking at the night guard expectantly.

"I...I don't know what to do," Larry replied, seeming a little flustered. Since he was among exhibits with good control, he could afford a little venting panic.

"Larry," Came Octavius' quiet voice, which was worried and afraid and everything that came with such a catastrophe. "What about the sun?"

The three bigger exhibits stood rigid for a moment, neither of them realizing before then that particular danger. After a moment of thought Ahkmenrah, who had been holding the Tablet, since it was a code blue, and spoke softly under his breath, touching a few of the hieroglyphs as he spoke. He then looked up, and placed the slab of gold down with a sigh.

"That should give him time," He said, looking around at the others. When he saw the confusion on their faces, he explained. "I extended the Tablet's power on him, so he will stay alive without needing to be in its vicinity, Though I fear I do not know for how long."

They were all silent, and after a few moments the two larger exhibits left, leaving only Larry and Octavius behind, both silent and solemn, trying to process what had happened. After a few more moments, Larry sighed, and picked him up, carrying him back to his own exhibit, as it was almost morning. He heard the little Roman sigh, and knew exactly what he must be thinking. But Octavius spoke his mind before Larry brought it up.

"Why can we not do something?" He asked, staring desperately up at Larry.

"Octavius, you know why. It's almost morning, and we don't even know where he is. And besides," Larry said, staring down at him. "You're the last leader in the hall-"

"Please," Octavius said, his voice seeming to almost crack. "Do not say that…"

"Alright. I'm sorry. You're the only leader here."

"I just want him back," Octavius whispered, a small tear slipping from his eyes.

"Don't worry," Larry said reassuringly, giving him a little hug. "We'll find him."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey!" Yelled Jedediah as he squirmed and kicked in the man's grasp. "Don't you man handle me! Put me down ya stinkin'-"

"Oh, shut up." Said the man, opening a door and roughly tossing the little cowboy into a small, darkened closet.

Jedediah landed with a small thud against a cardboard box, and landed on his stomach, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. He leapt to his feet angrily, his eyes blazing as he ran at the still open door with a shout of rage. But before he could reach it, it was slammed shut, and he had to throw himself sideways to avoid running into it. He stood again, and ran at the door, slamming against it again and again, yelling at the man who had captured and taken him away from his home.

"You better let me out'a here, ya hear me!?" He shouted, pounding his fists against the door.

"Oh, now why would I do that?" Came the man's voice, calm and slightly brooding as he spoke to the door.

"I ain't gonna take this quietly! Let me out!" Jedediah yelled back.

"No." The voice said simply. "And stop hitting my door."

"Never!"

"Then have it your way." The voice said, sounding malicious.

Though he couldn't see it, Jedediah knew the man was smiling, and jumped away from the door as it shook with the reverberated impact of a foot. He took a few more paces back, panting from his struggle, and when his back touched the box he slid slowly down to the floor, leaning against it as he tried to process everything that had happened. He remembered he'd been in his exhibit, preparing for the night, and he remembered the same man standing above him and grabbing him before he could react….

Just then, the door opened, breaking his thoughts. He looked up to see the man again, and he stared at him with an angry glare, refraining from saying certain things that could get him in more trouble than he already was. The man was looking down at him with a curious, slightly devious smile, his cigar hanging carelessly from the side of his mouth as he studied the little miniature. There was greed in his eyes, and also the curiosity, and Jedediah felt himself slowly inching away from the man, into the shadows of the small closet. But he wasn't quick enough.

The man reached out a hand and grabbed him, his grip unnecessarily tight though he didn't care to lighten it, and turned, shutting the door again with the little fighting cowboy subdues in his clenched fist. The man, with a small chuckles, swiped a mess of papers from his desk, placed the little miniature down upon it, and turned the desk lamp so it shone piercingly on the small figure, lighting him up as well as blinding him at the same time.

"Well now, what are you…" The man said, more to himself than to the cowboy. He roughly picked him up again, looking him over as he kicked and struggled against the man's tight grip. "Come now hold still,"

"No! Lemme go!" Jedediah yelled, still struggling against the man, though it was futile.

Jedediah tried harder to break free, but each attempt failed. He protested fiercely when he was suddenly turned upside down, and let out a sharp cry when the man pulled one of his arms rather roughly, apparently with no disregard about how much it hurt.

"Amazing!" Exclaimed the man, still looking over the little cowboy as the sun rose through the window. "It's like you're actually alive!"

"I am alive ya idiot!" Jedediah snapped, kicking harder to break free. "And yer hurtin' me!"

"But how can you be alive?" The man asked, confusion on his face. "You're just an animatronic."

"Well, yer wrong. I'm a livin' thing, and I can feel pain ya know! So please lessen yer grip!"

"Living, eh?" The man asked, his face contorted in a rather frightening smile that sent a shiver down the little cowboy's spine. "I need to see just how 'living' you are."

Jedediah was about to demand what he meant, when he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He screamed, and twisted himself free, landing with a hard bang on the table. He held his shoulder, which had been roughly tugged on, and tried to blink the white flashes from his eyes. The man above him looked thoughtful, and he turned from the table, pacing the room with an excited grin on his face.

"This is great," He said, flinging his arms up in delight. "Boy, if I was getting a tol 'o loot before, I'm getting even more now!"

Jedediah just watched in silence, trying to figure out what was going to happen to him, and what this man meant.

"Oh….if I was getting thousands with an animatronic, I'll get millions with something like you! Haha!"

"M-Me…?" Jedediah questioned, his voice quieter than he had expected.

"Ah yes," The man said, picking up the little cowboy in his hand. "You, are going to make me rich."

"I ain't gonna make you nothin'!" Jedediah shouted. Suddenly, the man yowled in pain, and dropped the miniature onto the table, holding his thumb as it had been bitten by the angry cowboy.

"Why you little…"

Jedediah didn't have a chance to get away as the hand snatched him up, and he was once again flung into the closet, only a lot harder this time around, and slammed into the wall instead of the box. The man closed the door carelessly, and only a small sliver of light remained, coming from under the door.

Jedediah lay there, unmoving as he stared at the small beam of light. He was angry and confused, and a little frightened. Okay, he was very frightened. As far as he knew, he was in the hands of some money obsessed man, who apparently wanted to sell him or something. But he also seemed curious about the fact he was alive. Which could only mean danger ahead, as he knew, from being warned by Larry and constantly reminded by Octavius, that there were many people in the outside world who would love to get their hands on something such as himself. To the people on the outside he was an unknown thing; and like all unknown things that become known, he would be shipped off to somewhere where he would never be heard from again.

He shivered as a cold draft entered the room, but still remained where he lay, thinking miserably about what might happen to him. Though his future was uncertain, he knew one thing for sure; at the hands of these people, he was not going to return to the museum alive.


	4. Chapter 4

The next night, Larry Daley was pacing the halls, thinking to himself as he checked to make sure the museum was "exhibit proof" since he was early and the sun wouldn't set for another twenty minutes or so. He hadn't slept well that day, bugged by things that normally wouldn't bother him. Too much sun in the room, too much noise in the streets, the mattress being too hard and the room being too hot, things that on normal days wouldn't stop him from sleep. He'd concluded it was because he was worried, which he very much was.

He was worried for Jed's safety, of course, especially since Ahkmenrah's little spell would render him alive 24/7, which meant more of a chance of danger to him and everyone else. Now that people from the outside had the cowboy, they also had the Tablet's secret, not that Jed would ever tell, Larry knew, but that it could still be discovered. And there was also the fear of the museum being closed down, taken, and all the exhibits, all his friends, the people he cared for- all taken and sent to who knows where. The dangers were mounting, and it was impossible to think of anything else but the problem at hand.

Walking past the Hall of Miniatures, the night guard noticed something on the ground, near the Western diorama which he hadn't noticed the night before in the confusion. There, at the base of the exhibit, was a small, rectangular piece of paper, with a rather pretty green lining, with cursive letters written in in a glimmering gold. On it, was a name, of what looked like a company, and underneath a number.

"Hodgkin's Artifacts &amp; Collectables. Hmm…." Larry said, reading the name allowed. He quickly strode down the hall, heading towards his office as he studied the card.

When he got there, he picked up the phone, and began carefully dialing the number on the card. He sat forwards in his chair as he waited for someone to pick up. He let out a small sigh of relief when a voice came from the other end.

"Hello?" Came a man's voice from the other end.

"Uh, hello," Larry said, leaning back slightly in his chair as he settled into conversation. "I'm….um, Mr. Wilkins, and, a friend of mine gave me your number and told me you were the one to call if I wanted to find a quality decoration….."

"Why yes, yes, of course. This is Hodgkin's speaking. And what might I interest you in sir?"

"Um, well, my son's birthday is coming up, and I was wondering if you had anything western up for buy." Larry said, surprised at how easily the story came out.

"Yes, I do, actually. A very wide selection of- ah, excuse me for a moment. _Quiet down in there! I'm not letting you out!_" Then, in an explaining tone. "Sorry about that. Just got a new puppy. What of those yappy kinds who wants to wander. Anyways, I have a wide selection of western style artifacts. I have various styles of Stetsons, old antique horseshoes, and a few pieces of fine cowboy art. What's your fancy?"

"Um, I'm not sure. I was just wondering and, this is just a question but, all your items were legally obtained, right?"

There was a hurried flurry of words on the other end of the line as the man spoke. "Yes, yes, of course. Everything was given to me or found and is one hundred percent legal. Now, what can I interest you in?"

Larry, lost in thought for a moment, remembered the birthday cover up and spoke. "Uh, a Stetson, please. A brown leather one, would be nice."

"Alright then. I have a few of those in stock. How much you willing to pay?"

"I have a couple hundred stashed away- will that cover it?"

"Ah, sure. I'll have it ready for you by next Tuesday." The man said, he then yelled at something in the background. "_I said shut up! Do you want to be fed today!?" _

"Um," Larry said, hoping to come up with an excuse that would let him investigate sooner. "His birthday's on Thursday, though. Is there some way I can get it sooner? Say, tonight?"

Hoarse laughter came from the man on the other end, and Larry had to hold the phone away from his ears as he sound was atrocious. "Tonight? Heavens no! It'll take at least a few days for me to fill out the paperwork and ready the old artifact. This business isn't easy, you know. And- excuse for a moment. _I've told you one too many times to be quiet!_" There was a loud bang and a quiet, almost undetectable cry, which was very much there but faint, which made Larry's heart beat faster. This was the man. "Stupid dog. Anyways, what was I saying?"

"You were telling me when I could pick up the Stetson."

"Ah yes. Let's see, what's today? Monday? I'll have it ready by Wednesday. All you have to do is pick it up. Sound good?"

"Uh, yes, very good. Thank you, sir. Goodnight." Larry said, preparing to hang up the phone.

"Yes, yes, goodnight. I've got that dog to deal with now." And with that, the man hung up.

Larry sat at his desk, a mixture of horror and excitement within him. This was a hint, a clue, a lead. And the only one they had at that. But Wednesday was almost three days away. Could Jed hold up that long? It obviously sounded as if he wasn't being treated gently. Would he still be there by Wednesday, when they came to rescue him? Did they even have a plan?

Realizing it was nearly sunset, Larry rose to his feet and left immediately back for the Hall of Miniatures, since he'd promised to tell Octavius first thing if he'd found anything. He made his way through the quiet halls, quite relieved that McPhee had allowed it to stay closed from the public until the "animatronics" were fixed. Larry had been supposed to call the electrical guys to come out and take a look at the system, which he hadn't, since of course he knew it all already. So really all he'd done was give the museum enough time to at least think of something before the crowd came back.

He made it to the hall mere seconds after sunset, and already the Roman general was on the edge of his display, urgency on his face but hope in his eyes as he spotted the night guard approaching.

"Any sign of Jedediah's captor?" Octavius asked, leaning forwards so far in his urgency he almost lost his footing and tumbled over the edge. Instead he tumbled into Larry's palm, and was carried out of the room as Larry went to track down Ahkmenrah and Teddy and explain the still formulating plan he had in his head.

"Yes." Larry said, glancing down. He saw a mixture of excitement and worry in the Roman's expression, and quickly explained. "I found a business card near Jed's exhibit earlier today, and called the number. What the man said seems to match up with what someone who took something as precious as….well….an artifact or what an outside person would say. I think he's the one who took him."

"And, you are sure of this?" Octavius questioned, refusing to let his hopes rise too high.

Larry nodded. "I heard Jed on the other end."

"You did?" Octavius asked quickly, starting immediately. "Is he alright?"

"Uh, I don't know, Octavius."

"How can you not know if you heard him?"

"Well, I didn't actually talk to him, but, well, I heard him scream." Larry said, knowing what he said was about to cause a rockslide of anxiety for the little Roman.

"What is that man doing to him," Octavius asked in a hushed whisper, to himself more than Larry, his gaze terrified and worried. "What is happening to him, Larry?"

"I don't know. But I think we can save him, if we're lucky."

"How?"

"Lawrence!" Came Teddy's barking voice as he rounded the corner, Ahkmenrah in tow. "There you are, lad! What's the news?"

"Hey, guys. Okay, so I found out some information that might help us." Larry said, stopping as the other two made their way up to him.

"Tell us, then, Larry," Ahkmenrah said urgently, sitting down on a nearby bench. Teddy followed suit, leaving the night guard standing and holding the little Roman, which he had almost forgotten about.

"Okay. So this evening, I came in a little earlier than usual to scope out possible clues, and came across this in the Hall of Miniatures, right in front of Jed's exhibit." As he said this, Larry pulled out the card, and handed it to Teddy, who handed it to Ahkmenrah who held it up for Octavius to see.

"Interesting. Look! A number! Did you call it?" Teddy asked, glancing up at Larry.

"I did, and the phone was answered by a man. I found out he's a buyer and seller of historical artifacts and collectables, and while we were on the phone he kept yelling at something in the background-"

"Larry, he could have been yelling at anything." Ahkmenrah pointed out, his voice quieter than usual. It made sense, considering the Tablet and a good friend of his were in such danger.

"I know it was a person he was yelling at. There was screaming in the background, too. But it was quiet, like, miniature, sounding."

"Lawrence, it could have been anything-"

"Teddy I'm pretty sure we have our lead. I made up a little cover up story about needing a gift for a birthday, and he's expecting us to pick it up on Wednesday."

"Larry," Came Octavius voice, concerned but calm, at least as calm as he could make it. "If we are to free Jedediah on that night, he will have to stay in captivity for three nights' time. What he cannot take it? What if something happens to him before we reach him?"

"We'll just have to wait, and hope he can pull through alone." Teddy said, rising to his feet. "I suggest we try not to dwell on the matter until the time comes. Lawrence, I presume you have a plan of action set aside?"

"Not yet, but I'll have one before Wednesday night."

"Good. Ahkmenrah, I suggest you return to your exhibit and keep a steady watch on the Tablet, in case something changes and the spell you used begins to crumble. I'll help with the rounds, Lawrence."

"Alright. Thanks, Teddy." Larry said, nodding once as the two larger exhibits left to perform their tasks. He sighed, and sat heavily on the bench, hit with one of his usual bouts of exhaustion which always overcame him when he was stressed. Tiredly, he set the little Roman on his knee, and they sat quietly as the other exhibits began milling about at random, trying to push aside the looming threat and enjoy their extended vacation. "You alright?" Larry asked, looking down at the Roman.

"I could be better," Octavius replied, staring miserably at the floor below him. "It is so hard, knowing someone you care about is suffering, but you cannot help at all."

Larry sighed, and then spoke in a hushed, tired voice. "We'll do something, don't worry. We just have wait."

"Waiting wastes such precious time, Larry. What if we are too late?"

"We won't be. If he's fighting it, which I know he is, then he'll make it to Wednesday. You and I both know he won't give up."

With a small sigh, Octavius climbed aboard Larry's hand, and asked in a small voice; "Can you please take me back to Rome? Forgive me, but I am not comforted by your words."

Larry nodded, and slowly walked back to the Hall of Miniatures, wondering what the poor cowboy was facing as they spoke.


	5. Chapter 5

Silence. It consumed the dark and cold closet. From outside, a light peered out from under the door, and the sound of people's voices over a television could be heard faintly if he strained to listen. But he was too tired to try. The hard floor was frigid, and the cold seeped through his cloths and touched his skin, causing him to shiver. The air was stuffy and smelled of old shoes, and he huddled back against his new established hiding place- between the back of a cardboard box and the far back corner of the small closet itself. He held his right arm against his stomach, hoping the pressure would ease the swelling. He cringed as his stomach growled, but tried to ignore it as he was not going to eat anything the man had to offer.

He'd been offered food, or, more rather, nearly been covered by it when the man flung a circular piece of red, highly spiced meat onto the floor. He didn't recognize the food, and had decided to not eat, since it would only keep him alive. Not that he wanted to die, more than anything he wanted to escape to the safety of the museum. But he'd decided earlier that day that he'd rather die than be left in the hands of these giants who treated him like the lowest being in the world.

He had been ill treated in his one day and soon to be two night stay. Most of it was his fault; trying to escape or constantly banging on the door and shouting to be let out and taken back. But he was always punished; a kick against the door that would send him stumbling backwards, a rough shove with a pointer finger knocking him down, and while the man had been on the phone, he'd been trying to escape again, and had been picked up and roughy thrown, leading to his injured arm.

He moved it slightly, and grimaced, clenching his teeth to hold back a pained shout. It had to be broken. He huddled up further between the box and wall, trying to keep what little warmth he had left trapped to him. As he sat there, thinking, he let his mind wander back to the museum. He'd tried to resist thinking about the friends he would never see again, for at the time he'd refused to except that he would be forever in his captivity with the giants. But now that he'd been so cruelty treated, and the fact that he'd heard the man discussing Western things which he owned, he knew his time would soon be up.

He wondered what Larry and the others were doing while he wasted away in his prison. Maybe they were searching for him. But his men would have surely told the night guard of his abduction. And Octavius? As much as Jedediah didn't want to think about it, his mind wandered across the void to his friend, probably miles away. He was probably sick with worry; and if it had been concluded there was no finding the cowboy, he was probably grieving the loss. It wasn't a comforting thought to think that his friends were going through as much mental hardship as he was. He hoped that soon they would give up, and try not to dwell on his loss. It would be best if they forgot, though there was no chance of that. Especially for Octavius.

"I know you're worried 'bout me," Jedediah said aloud, as though he was talking to his friend. "But try 'ta not. I'm already gone, and it's no use hopin'." He paused for a moment, longing for a reply but knowing there would be none, as Octavius was miles away. "Keep my memory, though."

In the dark silence of the closet, he found himself close to tears. He didn't want to die. He wanted to be back home, in his warm sleeping bag in his tent in his own display, back to Larry and his sometimes lame rules, back to the president and his soon to be sweet, gentle bride, back to the pharaoh and his kind nature, back to his midnight car rides, and back at his best friend's side, facing off against whatever consequences they faced due to the cowboy's reckless nature. He missed it all.

Unconsciously, he rose to his feet, and walked towards the door, his mind lost in its thoughts as he kept to his forward bath. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation against his skin, and leapt back with surprise. He fearfully looked around, trying to find the source of the burning. But the only thing he could see was the light from under the door, unless...

Cautiously, he extended his left hand, since his right one was unable to leave its still position which kept the pain in his arm at bay. As soon as his bare hand met the light, it began to burn fiercely, and he quickly brought it back with a sharp cry, stumbling backwards in shock. It was the light. It hurt. Why did the light hurt?

But he didn't have time to think about it because the door was swung open, and the shadow of the man fell over him. Hurriedly, Jedediah scrambled to hide, since he knew he couldn't stand up against the man, but wasn't fast enough and was quickly caught up in his grip, restraining himself from struggling as he knew the man had no problem in exacting pain on him.

The faint light in the room just outside was irritating, but Jedediah was able to fight it as he kept his eyes downcast, careful not to provoke the man. He was roughly put on the table, and sat, his legs out in front of him, curled up over his arm with his head down. The man stood above him, watching him with a cold, merciless interest.

"So tell me, little creature, why are you alive?" The man asked, his arms crossed and waiting for an answer.

Jedediah didn't answer. He was trying to fight the rising pain the light produced.

"Well?" The man said expectantly, tapping his foot. "Are you going to speak? Or am I going to have to force it out of you."

Still, the cowboy didn't reply, his teeth clenching as he held back a pained cry. The light hurt. Bad.

"What's the matter with you?" The man asked, sounding annoyed. He flipped on a switch and the large overhead light switched on.

Jedediah couldn't take it. The second the large burst of light hit him, he screamed, falling from his hunched sitting position to flat on the table, writhing in agony. The man, confused, took him in his hands, a slightly worried look to his face, though his worry was not for the small life he held now in his hands. Something was wrong with his profit.

"What the heck is wrong with you!?" He yelled, shaking the tiny cowboy, which did nothing but make the pain worse.

In a nervous hurry, the man turned away with the cowboy, absorbing him in shadow. Jedediah fell limp in the man's hands, struggling to breath and shaking as the burning slowly ebbed away. The man, unsure of what was going on, experimentally turned back to the light, exposing the little cowboy once again to it.

Jedediah screamed again, kicking and crying out, trying to break fee from the man's grasp, desperate to reach the shadows that wouldn't hurt him. The man then turned so his shadow covered the cowboy, and a slightly devious smile exposed his ugly, yellow stained teeth.

"Now," He said, acting as if he'd known about the light. "Why are you alive?"

Still, Jedediah didn't answer. He didn't want to, and couldn't even if he did, the pain too intense to do anything but lie still. Suddenly, the man cast him into the light, and once again the cowboy screamed, struggling harder to break free. The man then cast him into the shadows again.

"So tell me, why are you alive?" He asked in a mock gentle voice.

"I-I...I ain't tellin'..." Jedediah gasped, a few tears slipping from his eyes. The pain was almost blinding, and fear clenched his heart.

A second later, the little cowboy was screaming in agony as the man not only exposed him to the light, but held up towards the radiant bulb, increasing the burning sensation that pulsed through the little miniature's body. He screwed his eyes shut and screamed louder, unable to bear the immense burning.

"Why!" The man demanded, still holding the cowboy up.

Jedediah didn't want to. He didn't want to say it. But as each second ticked by the pain increased, and he finally cried out, "The Tablet! The Tablet is what makes us alive!"

The man, perhaps for the sheer pleasure of seeing the little cowboy suffer, or because of the fact that he'd been told of something far more amazing than his newest treasure, held him to the light a moment longer, until the cowboy was on the edge of unconsciousness.

Finally, he opened the door to the closet, and tossed him in, uncaring about what he hit. He slammed the door, and left the cowboy to suffer in silence.

Silent tears streamed from Jedediah's eyes, as he was no longer able to hold it in. His skin still burned, and he was too exhausted to move. His arm throbbed, and his head rang, probably from hitting the back wall. But worst of all, he'd given away the Tablet's secret, putting all his friends in danger. As he lay there, the darkness closing in on him, his last thought was one of regret.


	6. Chapter 6

Larry sat on his desk, tapping the table and staring across as Ahkmenrah and Teddy, who sat in two chairs which they'd pulled up for the purpose of conversing. Beside him, on a stack of papers, sat Octavius, quiet and solemn, listening to what the bigger exhibits said, but unable to keep his mind from wandering to his friend and what must surely be a nightmare for him.

"Alright guys," Larry said, folding his hands in an attempt to keep from taping. His foot started to move instead. "Tomorrow is when I'm supposed to pick up the artifact I ordered. Now. This man is illegally buying and selling artifacts, so we have to be careful since we could be arrested by being in his presence. But we have to get Jed."

"That is quite obvious," Teddy stated, nodding. "And you are very much right, Lawrence. But how do we get to our little friend? We do not know where he's being held."

"True, so that's why we should split up into teams. You and I, Teddy, will confront the man, and Ahkmenrah will see if there's a back entrance and look for Jed. Octavius,"

At the sound of his name, the little Roman looked up, staring at the night guard but only half listening.

"You can take a small group of men and scout out the places Ahkmenrah can't get to. That way, we'll have eyes everywhere. Teddy and I will keep our eyes peeled too. Sound like a plan?"

Octavius absently nodded, staring off into space.

Larry nodded a quick, curt nod. "Good. Have them ready tonight to !eave as soon as possible tomorrow-" Larry paused as he was cut off by the sharp ring of the phone. With a puzzled expression as to who would be calling at such an hour, he picked it up, and the others, even Octavius, waited in full blown, curious silence. "Hello?" Larry said, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hi, Mr. Wilkins?" A man's voice said, loud and ringing. Larry dropped the phone, surprised it was on speaker.

"Yes? Who is this?" Larry asked.

"It's Mr. Hodgkins, the man who sold you the Stetson?"

Everyone froze, and the exhibits listened intently.

"Can...can I help you?"

"Yes, you can. I was wondering, Mr. Wilkins, if you would like to consider a trade?"

"A trade?" Larry asked, confusion on his face. "For what?"

"Well...I have something far more interesting than a Stetson. If you really want a nice gift for your "son," I am willing to trade you your little cowboy for your Tablet, Mr. Daley."

A gasp came from Ahkmenrah, and anger flared in Teddy's eyes. Octavius stared at the phone with a look of horror, and Larry froze.

"Oh, don't think I don't know who you are, Daley. I do. The clues mounted easily enough. A tiny, living being from your museum, a phone call from someone, with the museum's number, I should mention, wanting a Western artifact. It was easy to tell."

"Now listen," Teddy said, unable to keep himself from chiming in. "You best release him, or else."

"Or else what, Mr. President?"

"How did you...?" Larry asked, unable to find the words to reply.

"Larry," Ahkmenrah said, looking at the night guard. "We cannot let him get the Tablet."

"Oh, but you must give it to me, dear pharaoh," The man said, startling Ahkmenrah. How did this man know...? "Unless you want your friend back dead."

"No..." Octavius breathed, but was quickly silenced by Larry.

"You can't have the Tablet," He said, his voice the tone of a final decision.

"Oh well. I suppose you're little cowboy friend will meet his end in the light of the sun."

"No!" Octavius cried.

"Lawrence there has to be something we can do," Teddy said almost at the same time.

"But we cannot give him the Tablet," Ahkmenrah said urgently.

"What will it be, Mr. Daley?" As the man spoke, a cry came from the background, followed by a strangled cry form help. "The Tablet, or your friend?"

"How do you even know this!?" Larry exclaimed, still confused.

"He told me." The man said.

"Jedediah would never tell," Octavius said, his eyes full of disbelief.

"Oh really?" The man asked, chuckling wickedly. "How would you like to ask him yourself?" A second later, hard panting could be heard through the phone, and the man's voice said-"Go head. Tell them."

Larry nodded, and Octavius slowly approached the phone, his heart clenching and his stomach doing summersaults as he neared. Hushed sobs were coming from the other end, and he tried to calm his shaking. "Jeded-"

"I'm sorry." The voice said, strangled and tear tainted. "I didn't mean to tell..."

"Jedediah," Octavius said, his voice shaky. But he pressed on. "It is okay..."

"I couldn't help it," The voice sobbed softly, full of pain and despair. "It hurt so bad..."

As the crying reached his ears, Octavius lay his hand on the phone's speaker, as it was as close to his friend as he could get. "It is not your fault."

"Please...please help me..." The voice said, teary and desperate.

"Jedediah, I promise help will come soon. Just hold on a little longer-"

"He's gonna kill me..." The voice cried, terrified and pained.

"Jedediah I promise, we will come for you." Octavius whispered, his hand still on the speaker, his only connection to his suffering friend. "We will find you. No matter what it takes."

"Aw, how cute." The man said, Jedediah's voice disappearing.

"We will save him, you know." Larry said fiercely, his fists clenching.

"Unless you bring the Tablet to me by sunrise, I will kill him. And no tricks." And with that, the man hung up, with one final cry from Jedediah.

Larry and the others sat in shocked silence, the weight of their new situation weighing heavily on their shoulders. Ahkmenrah, who'd brought his tablet with him, was hugging it tightly to his chest, muttering something under his breath in Egyptian, and Teddy was sitting there solemnly, his eyes a mixture of anger and worry. And Octavius stood rigid, fear in his eyes and a few tears forming in his eyes.

"What do we do now, Lawrence?" Teddy asked softly, his eyes landing on the night guard.

"I...don't know." Larry said, staring down at his hands.

"We must help Jedediah," Octavius said, his voice quite and sad.

"We cannot give him the Tablet." Ahkmenrah said, hugging it tighter.

"But he is going to kill Jedediah!"

"And if he gets the Tablet he could kill us all!"

"Enough!" Larry shouted, startling all three of the exhibits. They all stared at him in surprise. "Now listen. We've got two options..."

"Larry we cannot let him get his hands on the Tablet. If he does, who knows what will happen?" Ahkmenrah said, hoping to sway Larry in his direction.

Larry looked at Ahkmenrah, who stared back at him worriedly and clutched his Tablet. He looked at Octavius, whose eyes were watery and who looked ready to cry.

"Please," The Roman pleaded, his eyes begging. "We have to save him..."

With a sigh, Larry rubbed his face tiredly. He glanced at his watch. 12:00 am, midnight. They'd only have about five hours of darkness until the death the cowboy. But was it worth it? Was it worth putting every living thing in the museum in such danger to save one, tiny life? If they had to leave him to die in the sun, could he do it? Could he live with the guilt of letting him go so easily? The guilt of dooming poor Octavius to a life of grief and sorrow? Could he?

The answer was simple; no, he couldn't. "Ahkmenrah," Larry said, looking up finally. "We're going to give him the Tablet." He quickly held up his hand as Ahkmenrah went to protest, and took a deep breath. "We all know we can't leave him in that man's grasp. Here's what we'll do. Ahkmenrah, you and I will confront him. We'll try to stall as long as we can. Teddy, you'll have to stay here and keep things under control in case something goes wrong and the Tablet is effected. Octavius,"

But the Roman was already on the floor, running out of the room for his own exhibit. He was not going to waste his friend's precious time. He knew what he had to do.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as he reached the bottom of his display, he shouted up urgently, and was answered with a raised shout of many voices and a rope unraveling itself as one end reached his feet. He quickly climbed, reaching the top and taking the outstretched hands of one of his soldiers, who helle d him over the slightly curved lip of the display. When he reached the top, he walked immediately over to one of the men, crested helmet glinting in the artificial light.

"Marcus," He said, gesturing for the man to follow when he looked up.

Marcus turned and scurried after his general, saluting quickly as he kept pace. Marcus, being a good friend and trusted ally for years, even for the general's historical counterpart, was his first choice of help in the situation he faced. Capable and wise, he could easily lead a party of men, as he had proven yet again by finding Larry, and would gladly help when asked.

"Has there been a change in tactics, Sir?" Marcus asked, following as Octavius carefully selected the men he should bring with him.

"We are leaving tonight," Octavius replied, not even turning to face the man that walked beside him.

"What has happened?"

"The man is planning on killing Jedediah in the morning if we do not give him the Tablet."

"What!?" Marcus exclaimed, whirling to face Octavius.

But the Roman general was not in worry mode. Inside, the worry and the fear was almost too much to bear, it in the face of the threat he had to remain strong. A good general pushes these feelings down and commands with confidence. Soldiers are only as confident as their leader. He had to lead these men.

Without replying to Marcus, Octavius continued searching, selecting five men total, whom he knew could do exactly what were told and what needed to be done,

"Right," He said, staring around at the six. "You have all heard by now what has happened, I pressure?" All the men nodded, as news had a way of traveling fast among his people. Good in times of war. "I have selected you specifically to come with myself, Larry and Ahkmenrah in order to find and save Jedediah, and also protect the Tablet. Before we leave, I wish to know if you will help me."

All the soldiers nodded determinedly, and then from the back of the small crowd, came a few voices shouting out their support, and Octavius saw three cowboys standing there, just as determined as the Romans in front of them. Apparently, the news had jumped the borders. With a quick nod, Octavius led the band of men to the edge of the exhibit, and one by one, they made their way down the rope, just as Larry and Ahkmenrah entered, the Egyptian holding his tablet, and Larry holding a shoebox.

"In," He said, getting it on the floor and taking the miniatures two at a time and lowering them inside. Octavius remained on the outside as Larry briefly explained the plan, and then climbed into the night guard's pocket, as he was crucial to the plan.

Quickly, without a moment to spare, Larry and Ahkmenrah ran as fast as they could possibly go into Larry's car, which he only brought in emergencies, and the night guard quickly set the gear into drive, telling Ahkmenrah to buckle up as he set the shoebox in between them, and handed Octavius to the pharaoh, who held him and the Tablet as carefully as if they were children.

As the car sped down the road, the anxiety in Octavius grew, and he found himself staring out the window, desperately seeking the address of the building, though they were at least an hour away, and with each passing moment he became more afraid. The brief phone conversation had alerted him to the fact that his friend and so little time left, probably less than the man had said, and the fact that he was suffering and in pain made it all the more important he reach him quickly, which was nearly impossible as the traffic was horrible. Larry looked at his watch.

"Larry, we will never reach them in time in this traffic!" Ahkmenrah said urgently, straining to see just how far the line of cars went.

"I know," Larry said, suddenly turning off the main street and intima deserted parking lot. "The building's just a few blocks away. We'll have to walk."

"But Larry, the people-"

"I know, Ahkmenrah. I told you not to wear that, didn't I? We can take the back way there."

Hurriedly, but sticking to the shadows as to not arouse suspicion from the people in their cars around them, they quickly made their way the few blocks, and stopped by a back door, Larry going around to check on the address, then returning with the information.

"This is it," He said, kneeling down and setting the shoebox on the ground. He turned on his flashlight so they had enough light to see by, then set down Octavius as the men came out. "There appears to be an entrance on the left side. It's a small hole that appears to lead into the central room. I would take you there myself, but Ahk and I can't wait any longer."

"It is alright, Larry," Octavius said, glancing at the men who stood patiently behind him. "We are ready."

Larry nodded, and then spoke as he went to stand. "Ahk and I'll keep him distracted. It's up to you to find Jed."

Octavius nodded solemnly, and turned with a quiet order to his men to follow as they left down to the tunnel entrance. Larry and Ahkmenrah waited a few moments to make sure they were at least in the walls, and then quickly made their way to the entrance. They exchanged a glance of Are you ready? before Larry raised his hand, and knocked.

As they stood there in the night air, the door creaked slightly and two beady eyes stared out at them. They were accompanied by a low chuckle, and then the door opened completely, and the same man who had been described to Larry stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. Slowly, they entered.

"Are you ready to trade, Daley?" The man asked, a greedy smile on his face.

"Where's Jed?" Larry asked, purposefully coming to stand between Ahkmenrah and the man.

"After you give me that beautifully expensive slab of gold, you can have your cowboy. What's left of him."

Larry took a threatening step forwards, and then stopped when he heard a sharp, tiny intake of breath. He glanced down to the man's hand and saw with horror little Jedediah, limp and pale, the man's giant thumb pressed against his throat as he stared up at the night guard with pleading fear.

The man laughed. "I don't suggest threatening me, Larry. I could break his neck in half a second if I wanted to."

Larry narrowed his eyes, and his fists clenched at his sides as he stared angrily at the man. "Fine. Just don't hurt him."

The man, still smiling, led them into a small sitting room, and gestured for them to sit. The two did, and they watched as the man walked over to the window, and secured the tiny cowboy down to the sill with a piece of office tape. He then opened the curtains to reveal the starry night sky, and set a timer beside the scarred cowboy, counting down the minutes until sunrise. Larry smirked.

"The sun won't hurt him," Larry said, crossing his arms in victory.

"Yes, it can. Light hurts." The man said. When Larry showed a look of confusion, the man rose, and picked up a small handheld light, and raised it over Jedediah. He turned it on.

Almost immediately Jedediah cried out, and Larry resisted the urge to leap to his feet, gripping the cushions of the couch. Ahkmenrah stiffened beside him, and Larry sensed something was up. With the man distracted by his torturous game, he spoke.

"Ahkmenrah, what's wrong?" He asked, looking him the eyes. "I know that look. Something's not right, is it."

Ahkmenrah, clutching the Tablet tighter and tighter as the cries progressed, he closed his eyes and muttered something in Egyptian, his knuckles turning a pale white as he clutched his precious Tablet tighter.

"Ahkmenrah?"

"The spell," He whispered, opening his eyes but not meeting Larry's gaze. "It is wearing off."

"But I thought it worked for a while-" Larry began, only to be cut off by the pharaoh.

"It does, but with each exposure to light it wears off...and since he's been so far from the Tablet...the light, the artificial light, hurts him badly. And the light from the Sun can kill him. He will not turn to dust, but it will be too much for him to bear."

Larry nodded, and cast a swift glance at the man, who was still playing with the light to get his point across that he was serious. "Like sun stroke, kind of?" He questioned.

Ahkmenrah nodded. "Sort of, but in a more magical sense. Once the Sun's light reaches him, the magic meant to protect will become stronger, overpowering his fragile body and burning him alive. He will die from too much pain and exhaustion, or worse."

"Worse?" Larry asked, raising a worried eyebrow. The man was finishing his demonstration, and would soon have his focus on them again.

"The magic could be so strong, it could stop his heart."

The night guard took a sharp inhalation of breath, about to reply when the man took his seat in an old, raggedy recliner across from them, smiling with his hands folded in his lap. "You have about three hours," He said, still smiling. "So let's get down to business before we both loose something."


	8. Chapter 8

The pained cries from the cowboy met his ears, igniting a sharp urgency which took all of Octavius' strength and willpower to fight it off and stay where he was, waiting for the right moment to leave the safety of behind the tattered recliner where he and the men who had came with him crouched, waiting for a chance to free the man who lay restrained on the windowsill. They watched, some, like Octavius, with shocked horror, others with hate or rage, and some with fear and uncertainty as the man continued to light up the tiny cowboy, and only the steadying hand of Marcus on his shoulder kept him from betraying their presence in his desperate urge to reach his suffering friend. The pain of watching helplessly was torture. Just as the light must be.

As the man turned from the window and made his way to the shadows, Octavius felt himself being dragged back into the shadows by Marcus and another shoulder, and together they crouched, waiting for the man to settle and Larry to begin stalling. As the three men began to talk, Octavius gathered his wits about him, and motioned for the men behind his to follow as he slowly inched his way along the back wall, towards the sill that held his friend captive.

"So," Came the man's voice as he spoke to Larry, unaware of the little men sneaking behind him. "We are both very similar men. We have things we deeply care for. Me, I care about the money. You, you care about your little friend. If you give me the Tablet, I give you your friend, and we break it as even."

"Hmm," Larry hummed to himself, trying not to focus on the tiny men as they passed.

"Alright," Octavius whispered, turning to look over his shoulder at the men behind him.

He led them to a small wooden chair that was leaned against the wall, only a few inches from the sil. Cautiously, they tiptoed the rest of the way, keeping to the shadows as they weaved their way amongst the boxes and clutter littered about the floor. When they reached the end of the shadow cast by the recliner, they waited a moment to assure themselves they hadn't been seen, and with as soft of footfalls as they could muster, made it unseen to the wooden chair.

Nodding to Marcus, Octavius unslung the was of rope that had been over his shoulder, and threw it up, watching as it wrapped around the top part. He tugged on it, and once he was sure it was secure, ordered quietly for his men to climb.

He waited for all his men to reach the top before following, glancing over his shoulder every second or two, making sure they were still unspotted. The man was still talking to Larry. As of now, they were safe. Finally, he reached the top, and stood with his men, staring across the gap that separated them from their target.

It was a long gap, too long to easily walk across, and deep. A fall from that height would kill instantly, and all of them kept well away from the edge. There was no way to the window.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout, and then a barrage of vibrations sent the chair shaking, the men scrambling to find hand holds on the smooth wood surface. Then, without any warning, the chair was violently tossed aside, the men scattering. Octavius lost his grip on the wood, and found himself flying through the air, and then landing safely on the windowsill, his heart racing and his breathing quick with the shock of the impact. He saw that it had been the man who'd knocked the chair away, and that Larry was violently grappling with him, Ahkmenrah dodging the two, gripping the Tablet close to his chest as the man reached out every so often to snatch it away.

"Oct...Octavius...?" Came a weak voice from behind him.

Remembering the mission, Octavius leapt to his feet, and ran to his friend, who lay trapped; stuck beneath the merciless sticky substance that held him fast to the surface.

"Jedediah!" He exclaimed, finally seeing the cowboy for the first time since his abduction. "Thank the gods you are alright..."

"That was some entrance," Jedediah said with a smirk before breaking into a short bout of coughing.

But Octavius hadn't heard him. He was too busy examining his friend's state. He was deathly pale, his normally bright blue eyes lacking their usual lively glow, and looking half starved beneath the strip of tape that held him. The Roman could tell he was in pain, and the fear in his eyes was ever relevant, but the cowboy kept it under control, trying to smile and stay as calm as possible despite his current situation.

Below him, Octavius could see his men gathering about, running to avoid the giant feet that slammed down around them as the three giants fought, two of them trying to avoid getting too close and the third uncaring. He turned back to his friend, and tugged experimentally on the sticky bonds that held him. The cowboy winced, and Octavius tried another approach; cutting it. He took his sword and very carefully, taking great care to avoid injuring his friend with the sharp blade, hoping to cut the tape and free the cowboy. To his relief, he found his idea working, and soon had the cowboy free. He quickly helped him up, supporting him as they made their way to the edge of the sill. There was a sudden burst of light.

With a cry of pain, Jedediah fell to the ground, writhing in agony as the light immersed him. The man, who had seen the escape attempt, had flipped the switch, and the bright artificial light bathed the room in its yellow glow, lighting up the Romans and the few cowboys who had accompanied them. Unsure of what to do, Octavius hurriedly dragged his friend into the shadows, and tried to shield him from the bulb's reach, though it was useless.

"Wait!" Came a sudden cry from one of the three fighting men.

Octavius looked up to see Ahkmenrah yelling at the man, who was holding the Tablet with a greedy grin on his face. It was glowing.

"It's even more beautiful than I ever imagined!" The man exclaimed, holding the golden artifact to the light. He smiled as he examined it, not having any reason to fear attack as Ahkmenrah and Larry had drawn off, and were keeping well away.

"No!" Ahkmenrah yelled, stepping back towards Larry. "Its power is too strong! It will overwhelm you!"

But the man did not listen, and with a smile touched the center piece, which glowed the brightest.

What happened next was too horrible for Octavius to witness, and he turned away, taking to shielding his friend as golden light exploded all around them. He felt a rush of air against him, and the cries from Jedediah filled his ears as he took the force of the explosion, keeping his footing firm and hoping his shadow would deflect enough light to take some of the cowboy's pain away. It was all he could think of doing before he lost consciousness.

A few moments later, a hand very gently scooped him up, and another took up Jedediah. As he slowly came to, he saw Larry's face above him, and quickly rose to his feet, looking around urgently. He could hear his friend screaming, but couldn't see him until Ahkmenrah, who had an expression of shock and looked like he was about to be ill, stepped up beside the night guard. The Roman was vaguely aware of others around him as the two quickly gathered up the other miniatures, the only thought in his head reaching and protecting Jedediah from the light that glowed all around them.

As the two bigger exhibits hurriedly ran outside, Octavius faintly noticed the small pile of singed ashes lying on the carpet, and shivered. It was no use wondering what had happened now. The only thing that mattered was getting to the car, and protecting Jedediah from the light.


	9. Chapter 9

The light. It shone from every bulb on the street. The headlights on the cars, which at any other time would have been intriguing, were tortuous, and the street lights glare swept over him like a wave of pure fire, sending pain through his body as if molten metal were flowing through his veins. Even with the protective hand of Ahkmenrah covering him, the light still seeped through and attacked him at every angle. It burned like nothing imaginable, and each second brought with it more fire than the last. His cries continued. He sought the comforting presence of his friend, but could not see him as his vision was blurred. He clung tightly to the Egyptian's thumb, it being his only sense of reassurance he was not alone. Though his injured arm throbbed and protested being used, he held on tight for all his worth as the bumpy ride to the car continued.

"This way!" Came Larry's voice suddenly.

Jedediah felt Ahkmenrah make a sharp turn, and refused to loosen his grasp as gravity threatened to throw him aside. He heard the thud of car doors, and was thrust into the brightness of a vehicle, strengthening the pain and his cries for it to ehis friend's Through the yelling chaos from the two bigger men and the band of miniatures, he could hear the desperate shouts of Octavius calling to him, but couldn't see anything through the blinding agony that consumed him. A second later he found himself in the darkness, alone, and his mind suddenly went to being trapped in the closet awaiting his death. Some of his pain was replaced by an overwhelming fear, and he screamed for help.

"Jedediah! Hush now, steady…." Said Octavius' voice from somewhere in the darkness.

Jedediah felt a steadying hand on his shoulder, and instinctively grabbed the outstretched arm, clutching it tightly and crying, the pain slowly ebbing away but still lingering, and the fear building up in might.

"Calm down now, breath," Octavius instructed, staying as still as possible in order to avoid causing his friend more pain.

"Octavius…." Jedediah gasped, still holding tightly to the Roman's arm. "Help me…."

"It is alright now, Jedediah." Octavius whispered soothingly, gently patting his friend's shoulder with his free hand. "I am here. You are safe now."

"I-It's dark," The cowboy said in a hoarse voice, unable to move.

"I know. But you are safe. The man who took you is no longer a threat."

Slowly, Jedediah loosened his grip on his friend's arm, and began to calm. But he grabbed it again suddenly when Octavius shifted a bit.

"No! Ockie don't leave me!" He cried, tears pouring from his eyes.

"I am not leaving you," Octavius said reassuringly, scooting back beside him. He could feel the wet droplets on his arm as Jedediah cried out his fear. "I promise you, Jedediah. I am staying right here."

After a moment Jedediah's grip lightened, but he still held tight to his arm for fear of finding himself back in the closet or under the light. They were silent for a while, the gentle hum of the car filling their ears and the vibrations from the tires shaking them through what appeared to be a small shoebox. There were other voices around them, the other men checking on their comrades and consolidating each other's fears. A few of them seemed to be having breakdowns, which wasn't unusual since a good portion of the men had been first time recruits. Octavius remembered his first action of duty. He had been so shaken he refused to eat, or speak, for almost a week. It took a few comrades pinning him down and forcing food Into him in order to live. And from the fear his dear friend displayed, he was suffering the same thing.

"Jedediah?" Octavius asked a few moments later. "Are you alright now?"

A quiet sniffle in the darkness answered him, followed by spoken words. "I-I think so-"

Suddenly, there was fierce swearing from Larry, just as the car made a sharp turn. The box the small band of miniatures had hidden in was flung against the door, the lid being knocked off and the men flung out upon impact. For a moment Octavius was disoriented, trying to get his footing on the rapidly vibrating car. He looked around urgently for Jedediah but could see him nowhere. Then, he heard an agonized cry, and whirled around to see his friend lying on the center floor mat behind Ahkmenrah's seat. The pharaoh quickly turned and grabbed the cowboy before Octavius could reach him, but the cries continued.

"Ahkmenrah, what's happening to him," Larry asked, his voice a mixture of worry and also annoyance, directed at the people who couldn't drive and the very slow man in front of him.

"It is the sun," Ahkmenrah replied urgently, cupping his hands around the miniature in an attempt to cover him in shadow.

Larry glanced over at them worriedly, then slammed his foot on the break as the guy in front of them abruptly stopped to make a turn. He glanced over again. "Why isn't he dust?" He asked over the cowboy's cries. Of course, he was glad he wasn't dust, but something didn't seem right...

"I don't know!" Ahkmenrah replied back, in an obvious panic. "It could be a flaw in the spell!"

Larry had to stop once again to avoid hitting a walking pedestrian. In the back, the startled shouts of the miniatures could be heard as they kept losing their balance. Octavius was holding to the seat, trying to see what was going on. Though it was against his better judgement, he had to reach his friend, and tried to climb the mountainous seat that sat the pharaoh. But he couldn't reach them. Instead, he focused on trying to keep his balance as Larry made the final turn into the museum's parking lot. The cries from the cowboy could still be heard as Ahkmenrah opened the side door, holding Jedediah in his shadow as he used his spare hand to gather up the other miniatures. Larry came up beside him and grabbed the Tablet, rushing up the steps with Ahkmenrah close behind. They turned into his office, quickly slamming the door behind them.

Larry went to turn on the light, then remembered what it did to the little cowboy, and instead turned on his flashlight, setting it down nearby so it provided enough light to see, but hopefully not enough to cause any more pain to Jedediah. Ahkmenrah quickly set the Tablet down on the table, then lay the little cowboy down upon it, keeping his hands to the Tablet's sides as he spoke another ancient spell. The Tablet glowed a bright silver, like a beam of moonlight, and slowly the cowboy's cries began to cease, and he was able to breathe evenly again, a wave of calm washing over him.

Octavius was beside him a second later, trying to coax him to stand. But he was too weak, and only lay on the hard, cold surface of the gold, shivering and staring up at nothing. Larry spoke.

"He's okay, right?" He asked, glancing momentarily at the Egyptian before turning his gaze back to Jedediah.

The pharaoh gently stroked the smooth surface of his tablet, eyes closed and breathing deeply. After a few moments he slowly opened his eyes again, and turned to Larry with a nod. "I think so. But I'm detecting he's terribly ill."

"What do you mean, 'ill'?" Octavius questioned, a worried look on his face.

"I mean," Ahkmenrah began, his tone quiet and solemn. "Something must have gone wrong with the spell. But it couldn't have..."

"Ahkmenrah..." Larry began, looking worriedly from cowboy to Egyptian.

"Something's wrong with the spell. It is like, he's been poisoned...but I do not know how..."

"Poisoned?" Octavius asked, his eyes full of worry.

Without a word, the pharaoh stood, turned on his heels, and left; leaving the door wide open. Larry followed.


	10. Chapter 10

The sirens outside blared, silent witnesses to the chaos that went on within the walls of the small house with the shattered windows and downed trees. From within came the questioning voices of the officers, investigating the death of the man within. The investigators brought their dogs and their detectors and searched, but they found no clue as to what happened.

"...and then there was this sudden flash of golden light that knocked off the power in my car!" Explained a woman being questioned about what happened.

"Interesting..." The sheriff said, scribbling notes down as he spoke.

"Sir," Came a voice from behind him. He turned to the other officer who walked over with a nauseous look on his face. "You'd better come see this."

Nodding to the woman he'd been speaking to the officer followed his comrade through the open door and into the house. He noticed immediately the stench of the place, which smelled like smoldering rubber and burning acid. He saw that the walls were scorched, and the paint was peeled off in little overlapping curls, as if it had been scrapped. The furniture was burnt and signed, and one chair in the corner still burned with a radiant vibrancy that went beyond what any normal fire could muster. But the truly strange thing, was the still smoldering pile of ashes at his feet.

Leaning down to get a better look at what was left of the victim, a horrible smell smacked him in the face and shot upwards, coughing and sputtering.

"What the heck is that?" He asked, swatting the foul smelling air away.

"I don't know, Sir." The other man replied, looking at his superior.

Examining the remains closely, the sheriff realized only one possible thing could have happened; spontaneous combustion. That was all it could be. "Is this why you called me, deputy?"

"No, Sir. I called you because of...this." Upon finishing his sentence, deputy gestured to a small, handheld machine another man held.

Looking down at it, the sheriff saw it was in fact a Geiger counter, the device he and his men used to detect radiation. And the needle was in the red. For a moment they just stood there, both pondering what could have possibly caused such high levels of radiation? Then they realized; they were in a room full of radiation. D

"Deputy, get the boys out of here as quickly as possible! No one is to touch anything!"

"Yes Sir!"

With one final, contemplating look at what was left of the victim, the sheriff turned, and quickly scrambled away, closing the door as he did so. He and his men were rushed to the hospital, leaving the evidence behind.

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"Jedediah?" Octavius asked, looking through the dim light at his friend, who lay still at the other end of the table, under the protection of a small jar. He looked with a mixture of annoyance and worry up at Larry. "Why must I stay away?"

"Because he's poisoned," The night guard explained, a serious look in his eyes.

"But how could he be poisoned!" Octavius exclaimed, angry with the night guard for refusing him access to his friend.

The night guard shrugged. "That's what Ahk said," He stated. Looking down at the sad little Roman, he was overwhelmed by a horrible sense of guilt, and he sighed before continuing. "Look, Octavius," He began, carefully picking him up and holding him gently in his hands. "He has had direct magical contact with the Tablet. From what Ahk told me, that means his body is being overrun by its magic."

"Is that not a good thing?" Octavius asked, frowning. "Does the tablet not heal?"

"It does, but-"

"But too much of its magic can overwhelm the body and destroy it." Came Ahkmenrah's voice from the doorway. The pharaoh, upset with himself about what his tablet had done, had returned from his thinking stroll and stood watching the night guard and the Roman, his eyes cold and angry. "The Tablet's magic is good, yes, but too much of it can cause problems. Think of it as electricity. Electricity is energy, which already is present within one's body, and is what fuels one's heart. Just as the Tablet's magic is within you and drives your heart to beat and you to live. But you were to get an electric shock, it could potentially overrun your heart, ultimately leading to a heart attack and then...well, you know."

"But, it is not electricity. Is the magic."

"That I know. Like electricity, too much in the body in a sudden jolt can stop the heart cold." Ahkmenrah explained, coming to sit in the desk chair.

"But he was not overdosed with the Tablet's magic," Octavius argued, confusion etched onto his face. "Was he?"

"Well no, but the spell we...I, used on him, is stronger than I thought it was, and was meant to protect from the sun. But it also apparently tried to protect him from all light, artificial and natural. In doing so, the Tablet tried to make the spell stronger, to such ends that Jedediah's body can not, and will not, be able to cope."

"What exactly are you saying?" Octavius asked, his eyes fearful though he tried to remain calm. "What do you mean 'will not'?" He said, his voice almost breaking.

The two normal sized men exchanged a glance.

"I mean, Octavius, Jedediah is not going to survive this." Ahkmenrah whispered, his voice sad and his eyes full of a fierce rage. "And there's nothing I can do."

"Wh-what...?" Octavius stammered, the pharaoh's words sinking in. He fought to keep down the sudden despairing distress that rose within him and speak with a stable voice, which came out as merely a shaky squeak.

Larry nodded slowly, his eyes closed and shoulders trembling slightly. "I'm sorry, Octavius."

"B-but...but the Tablet it-it heals!"

"It does, yes," Ahkmenrah said, a sigh escaping his lips. "And it believes it is healing by killing the light."

"But you can control it!" Octavius exclaimed, desperate for something, anything, to have even the slightest possibility of changing what was to happen.

"Yes I-I can but...the Tablet sort of has its own mind...its own consciousness, if you will. I can control it, but once it is set on something it is impossible to stop it."

"No..." The Roman whispered. "The-there must be some way. A spell to cancel it out? Exposure to darkness? Wh-what about...about an incantation? An herb? Anything?"

Ahkmenrah shook his head sadly, and had to turn away, unable to look at the pained desperation on the Roman's face.

"So...nothing will...will work..."

"I'm afraid not," Ahkmenrah whispered, staring out the office window as the sun rose just outside. "His hours are numbered."


	11. Chapter 11

It took so much effort to wake up the next night, and the exhausted Roman slowly rose to his feet, his hand subconsciously stroking the soft fabric of his blanket. The night before had left him exhausted beyond his limits, and his men, especially Marcus, who could tell something was bothering the general, had insisted that Octavius actually sleep for the day, instead of being frozen in his usual, standing position. It would have been better for him to freeze, to let the Tablet work its magic on his tired body, but he'd refused to have any contact with the Tablet. He was afraid of what it could do.

Outside, he could hear the usual hustle and bustle of his city, but it gave him no comfort. He hadn't slept well. His mind had been on Jedediah all day, and he'd tossed and turned, battling down the emotions and feelings of helplessness and despair. This added with the noise of the daytime visitors made his rest impossible, and he'd woken tireder than he'd been when he'd laid down. He sighed miserably, lowering his head into his hands. He rubbed his tired eyes, and remained in that position for a while, the pressure on his eyes relaxing the aching. As the forced darkness filled his eyes, his mind drifted off to Jedediah, and he found it was futile to reel it in.

He wanted to see him as soon as possible, but he'd been informed by Teddy a few hours before sunset that Larry was still asleep, and that he'd locked the office door and had asked not to be disturbed. Which was irritating for everyone concerned, and especially for Ahkmenrah, who'd told the night guard he'd need to check on the cowboy throughout the day, and felt as though his sacrificed sleep had been in vain, since he'd been unable to do his job. It was especially upsetting for Octavius, who'd promised to see the cowboy the very moment the sun set on the horizon. And his promise, which, for something so small, he knew had meant much to his friend, who needed every ounce of comfort he could get in these final days of life. Octavius felt his throat tighten, and his eyes stung as tears threatened to slip from them. He quietly choked down a sob, trying to fight against the onslaught of despair that threatened to break him down. He pulled himself together just as a soft knock announced a presence outside his door.

"Octavius?" A voice asked, which he instantly recognized.

"Come in, Marcus," He said, quickly wiping his eyes. He raised his head slowly as the door opened, and refused to meet his second's eyes. He felt a presence beside him, and a steadying hand on his shoulder. He forced himself to stop trembling, but Marcus had already picked it up.

"Are you alright, Octavius?" He asked, gently rubbing his back.

Octavius bit his lip, and nodded slowly. He wasn't sure if the others had gotten the news yet, and prepared himself to tell his old friend without breaking. "It is Jedediah," He said, folding his hands in his lap and playing with his thumbs. "He is terribly ill."

"We heard," Marcus said sadly, patting his shoulder. "How is he?"

Octavius took a deep breath before continuing. "Not good. He is...he is dying."

"Oh..."

They were silent for a moment, and Octavius silently pleaded that his second would say something, anything, before he fell into that pit of sadness that he so often fell into. Marcus finally spoke.

"I...do not what to say...I am so sorry..." Marcus murmured, averting his gaze to the floor.

"It is okay..." Octavius replied quietly, pausing when his voice broke at the last word. He fought back the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes, and bowed his head to hide his sorrow.

"No. It is not okay, and you do not have to lie about it." Marcus said soothingly, trying to sound as comforting as possible. "You are hurting and need to let it out. Holding it in and pretending nothing is wrong will not help you or Jedediah. I know you have an image to keep up, but the men, everyone, they all respect you." He paused, waiting for a response, and when nothing but the faint sound of sobs met his ears he continued. "You do not have to be a hero, but you must stay strong. Jedediah needs your strength and support. He needs you to comfort him. He will understand your sadness, but you must not let yourself bring him down too. It is natural to cry, and good to let out your feelings, but at the same time you must be considerate. For Jedediah's sake."

"I-I know...I just...I cannot bear it...and it is not fair..."

"I know, Octavius. Life is the most unfair thing ever created. But there is still hope."

"Hope?" Octavius questioned, blinking away his tears. "Hope...what hope could there be left?"

"Well...I like to believe that, no matter what, there is, always, even a little, hope. And if on to that hope, things will get better." Marcus whispered. "It just...takes time."

Octavius sniffed, and slowly relaxed his trembling shoulders. He took deep breaths until he could breath evenly again, and wiped his eyes with his wrist. "Thank you, Marcus. I am sorry if I troubled you."

Marcus smiled warmly and stood, extending his hand. Octavius took it and allowed his old friend to help him to his feet. "You need something to do," He said thoughtfully, leading his general to the door. His eyes brightened with an idea. "How about we watch the archers practice? I hear a few of them have quite the eye for targets."

Octavius nodded slightly and, trying to push his sadness aside, followed Marcus out the door and into the artificial light.

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"That was fun, was it not?" Marcus asked, swallowing his mouthful of bread. He took a small sip of his watered down wine, and looked across the table at his friend and general.

Octavius stood looking down into his cup, a piece of barely nibbled on buttered bread beside him. He wasn't that hungry, and just observed the tiny bubbles skittering across the surface of the red liquid. Marcus frowned.

"Octavius, please. I do not like seeing you like this. I know you are upset, but you need to be good to yourself."

"How can I focus on having fun when someone is dying?" Octavius asked miserably, looking up at Marcus.

"Would Jedediah want you to wallow in your sadness?"

Octavius sighed sadly, and closed his eyes. "No. He would not. He would want me to carry on, until the last day."

"Exactly." Marcus glanced up at the sound of the chiming from the great clock near the entrance of their hall, and stood. "It is midnight. I believe Larry is coming to fetch you." He picked up his helmet, paused, and spoke. "Send Jedediah my condolence. And please, remember what I said." And with that, he walked out of the little bakery, leaving Octavius alone, minus the man working standing behind the counter, apparently pleased with the amount of wine that hadn't been given to his customers.

Octavius slowly rose to his feet, and walked down the main street that led to the edge of his diorama. He listened to the chatter of the people, and watched with longing as they immersed themselves in the many fun activities that were offered to them on nights like this, when visitors were no longer allowed in. Larry had talked to McPhee about closing for a few nights, to give the actors a break, and the exhibits had been excited to hear of their break. l But, it was a break that came from a very bad thing, and many pitying glances were tossed at the general as he went by. At one point, he was even stopped by a small boy, who had hugged him and wished him well, before running off to join his mother, who exchanged a knowing glance with her leader before walking on.

The sound of a horse nearby brought his attention to the tunnel, and he saw Will, one of Jedediah's men, leading his horse across the small span of distance towards the Roman. He raised his hand in greeting, and Octavius waved faintly back, waiting to see what it was he wanted. Though he already knew. The westerners had been shocked at the news of their dying leader, and many had been coming to look for him, asking for news of their leader. It had probably gotten to the point where they could stand the sparse information no longer, and had sent their best man as a messenger.

"Hey, Octavius." Will said, stopping before him.

"Greetings, William." Octavius replied, forcing himself to meet the cowboy's gaze. "How is the West?"

"In shambles," Will replied, shaking his head with a sigh. "The folks ain't happy with the news. They wanna know more, and none of us got any useful news for them. They're impatient to hear. Which is understandable. Jed's a mighty fine leader, and a good guy."

"Yeah..." Octavius replied, looking at his feet. He was indeed a good man, and an even better friend. Will frowned, and patted the Roman on the shoulder.

"Ya know what Jed would say," He said, looking out over the expanse of floor that spread throughout the hall. "'Keep yer head up, don't want life overlooking ya.'"

Octavius nodded, and tried not to imagine the words spoken in Jedediah's voice. He did lift his head up, and forced himself to stare at the bench. As he stared at the unmoving, sculpted wood, he glanced beside him, trying to change the conversation. "You are to be the new leader, yes?" He asked, keeping his voice from trembling.

Will sighed, and nodded. "Yeah. I hope it don't happen though. I can't lead 'em like Jed does. He just...has that talent, you know? He always knows what the folks need. And they respect 'em. I can't expect that same love."

"Do the people not like you?"

"Oh they like me, but I ain't Jed."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, until Larry finally came, hurrying along, his expression shown with an obvious lack of sleep, and Octavius scolded himself for feeling a small rush of self contempt, since he was not the only one who was sleep deprived. Larry smiled tiredly, and laid his hand flat against the diorama to allow the two to step on.

"Hey, guys," The night guard said, lifting them up to eye level.

"Howdy, Larry." Will said, returning the smile.

"Good evening, Larry." Octavius said, his eyes refusing to meet the night guard's.

Larry sighed, and quickly walked down the hallways, towards the door of his office. He'd left Ahkmenrah to watch Jed, and was aware of the pharaoh's exhaustion, and knew he needed to get back quickly to avoid the Egyptian falling asleep while watching the little cowboy. He opened the door quietly, and closed it behind him. The room was dark, and the only light was cast by a small candle sitting in the center of the small coffee table that sat in front of the couch. Ahkmenrah sat on it, munching with an irritated expression, obviously grumpy about still being up. And on Larry's desk, just outside the reach of the soft light, lay Jedediah, out of the glass jar, and laying tucked tight in a small, makeshift bed. Larry walked quietly behind his desk, and set the two down, sitting with a heavy, quiet sigh. He began slowly munching on his cold fries, looking at something on his smartphone, careful to shield the light.

Will made the first move. "Jed?" He said, walking up to his leader's bedside. He led the horse behind him, and stood respectfully beside the cowboy.

Jedediah blinked his eyes open, and smiled weakly, his dull eyes brightening a little. "Hiya, Will. How are you?"

"Good. Good. Worried,"

"I think we're all kinda worried, Will." Jedediah said with a small smile. He then glanced down at his feet, where the horse was nuzzling gently at the blanket. He smiled fondly, and tried to sit up. Noticing he was struggling, Larry gently pushed him up the rest of the way with his finger, holding him steady. The cowboy gently rubbed the animal's muzzle, and rested his forehead against it, whispering softly to the gentle creature. "Hey, Gracie," He said, gently fondling her ears. At the sound of her owner's voice, the horse looked up and snorted, proceeding to try and eat his hair. The cowboy chuckled slightly, raising a weak arm to defend himself from the hungry onslaught. He turned to Will. "She eaten yet?"

"She's eaten. A whole bag 'o oats." Will replied. "She's missed ya, since you've been gone."

"I've missed you too, girl," Jedediah said, kissing her muzzle softly. He held her muzzle with both hands, and looked into her eyes. "Now listen girl. I'm gonna be gone for a while...forever. You'll see me again, soon, perhaps, though hope it's a long while- not that I don't love you, just that you deserve a long life. From now on Will's gonna take care of ya, and yer gonna have 'ta behave. He's gonna be busy...kay?" As if in response, the horse blew softly on his face, ruffling his hair. He smiled, and gently pushed her away, and turned his head carefully, wincing slightly, to look at Will. "Yer gonna need luck, Will," He said, his voice serious. "The boys ain't gonna take my death well. Ya gotta lead 'em well fer me, kay?"

"I will," Will promised. He then took a step back, leading Jed's horse with him. "Octavius's here too."

At the mention of his friend, Jedediah weakly craned his neck to see over WIll's shoulder, and smiled weakly when he saw the Roman. Octavius quickly stepped forwards, standing where Will had stood a moment earlier. He stared down into the cowboy's eyes, wanting to speak but not trusting himself to speak clearly. He didn't know what to say. Jedediah gently placed a shaky hand on his, and smiled up at him.

"Octavius..." He said, his voice very faint.

"Yes?" Octavius managed to say, trying to stop himself from losing it.

The cowboy went to speak, but was interrupted by the quiet creak of the door. Everyone looked up as Teddy stepped in, quickly shutting the door to block out the bright lights from the hall.

"Sorry to bother you," He said, speaking down to the miniatures. "But Octavius' presence is needed back in his diorama."

Octavius looked up at the president, unsure of what he should say or do. He was needed, but Jedediah needed him more. He looked down at the cowboy, and Jedediah spoke. "Go," He said quietly, a faint smile on his face. "Yer people need ya."

As he turned to walk away, Octavius could see the small glimmer of sadness in his friend's eyes, and turned back to him. "I will be back. I promise."

"I know." Jedediah whispered. "I know."

"I...should be going too," Will said, nodding once t Jed. "Feel better soon, whatever happens to ya."

"Thanks, Will. You get back now. And tell the boys that as long as I'm breathin', there's still laws to follow."

Will nodded, and boarded the president's palm. And with a farewell look at Jedediah, Octavius followed, his heart heavy, and waited to be taken back to his exhibit.


	12. Chapter 12

Larry sighed as he gently set the Roman down, stepping back a pace as he slowly walked off his hand. The Roman paused when he reached the tiny bedside, and stood very still, his eyes scanning the figure that lay there so still and cold. His eyes made contact with pale blue spheres, and he took a deep, shaky breath before speaking.

"You...you wanted to see me?" He asked quietly.

The lying figure nodded, then grimaced at the movement. "'Course I do. Ya don't think I 'd leave 'thout sayin' goodbye, do ya?"

Octavius shook his head. "I-It would be unlike you, Jedediah." He forced a smile onto his face, though he wanted to do anything but.

The cowboy smiled weakly, and glanced at the chair set up beside the makeshift bed. Octavius swallowed, and slowly lowered himself into the seat. They sat in silence for a while, both collecting their thoughts and thinking about what to say. There was so much that needed to be said...but not enough time. Jedediah weakly turned his head towards his distraught friend, and gave a faint smile.

"Ya know somethin', Ockie?"

The Roman looked up, but remained silent.

"I don't think I've ever told ya how much I appreciate ya. You know that?"

Still, Octavius was silent, not trusting himself to speak.

"Ya know what I'll miss the most about life?" Jedediah asked, staring up at the ceiling. He sighed softly when his Roman friend didn't reply. "I'm gonna miss you, Ockie. And the car. You and the car made for good times, ya know that? All your panickin' was kinda a funny, ya gotta admit. And that time ya accidentally changed the radio station to rock and almost wrecked us. That was great."

Once again, silence met the poor cowboy's ears, and he sniffed, blinking away the wetness at the corners of his eyes. "Ockie, ya ain't makin' this easy fer me..."

Finally, Octavius could stand it no longer, and spoke in a barely controlled voice. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, still refusing to meet his friend's gaze. It was all he could think of to say.

Jedediah sighed, and reached a shaky hand out towards the Roman. Octavius took it gently, and finally looked into his dying friend's eyes.

"I'm scared, Ockie."

It took all of the Roman's willpower to keep himself from breaking, and he took a deep, steadying breath. He could cry later. Jedediah needed him now. "Do not be. You will be alright."

"Don't lie 'ta me, Ockie. I know I'm dyin'. Ahkmenrah told me."

Silence again. Octavius could no longer take it. He bit his lip until it bled, but failed to keep the tears out of his eyes.

"Ockie, don't cry." Jedediah said, a frown on his face.

"How can I not?" Octavius asked, his voice breaking. "I...I a, loosing you."

"Naw, Ockie. I'm never lost. Just...just away. Think of it like that."

"You are away and will never return again..."

Jedediah sighed, and gave his friend's hand a weak, comforting squeeze. "There's better things 'ta do in life than mourn, Ockie. Yeah, I wanna be remembered. But don't let it drag ya down. Ya got your whole life ahead of ya, Ockie. So much stuff you can do. Live a little."

"But I will not have you."

"Ya don't need me, Ockie."

Octavius blinked rapidly, refusing to break down in front of his friend. "Do not say that. I do need you..."

The cowboy shook his head. "Ockie, ya gotta live on your own." He paused, and closed his eyes gently. "We knew this would happen one day. I'm glad it's me rather than you. I'll always be with you, ya know."

Octavius bowed his head, choking down a strangled sob as he shoulders shook with sorrow. He heard his friend take a deep breath, and felt something brush against his hand. He looked down to see a Stetson, battered and old, just like the one he'd given Jedediah the day they'd accepted their friendship.

"Take it," The cowboy said, pushing it towards him. "I don't need it now." He took a deep, strangled breath, then said in a low, strained voice, "Remember me...Ockie..."

The Roman was about to reply, but he paused when he noticed a faint glow building up around his friend. He looked at the Tablet a few feet away, which was also glowing. He felt anguish grip his heart as he realized what it was. He looked down at the cowboy and saw his eyes screwed shut in pain. The dying man's hand still gripped his, and he felt it growing slowly weaker as the glow became stronger. The cowboy stiffened as it burst from the Tablet, and for a moment gripped tighter, before it grew strangely cold.

The light softened, then disappeared altogether, leaving Jedediah nothing but a wax figurine.


	13. Chapter 13

"Jedediah?" Octavius asked, blinking at the still body. He took a small step forwards and shook it, cringing at the cold, smooth feeling of his once human arm. He was aware of Ahkmenrah and Larry nearby, neither wanting to take the Roman away from his friend.

Octavius felt something inside of him break. Something important. Something vital. Jedediah was dead. He had watched him die. A moment before he had been about to cry, but now- he felt numb. Like he couldn't figure out what had happened. Why his friend was so still. Why his eyes were so glassy and...painted. They looked painted. And the fabric of his clothes was stiff and stuck to his skin, which felt smooth, almost plastic. But waxy, like a candle. And his face was not as lively as it had once been. Instead, it was straight and chiseled, like a sculpture. Like it was...molded. All the humanness and life gone from it. It was unreal.

"Jedediah…?" Octavius asked again, shaking him for a second time. Once again, there was no reply.

"Octavius..." Larry whispered, stepping forwards. Ahkmenrah put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and he slowly turned to face the Egyptian.

"Do not bother him, Larry." Ahkmenrah whispered, pulling Larry back. "He must not be disturbed."

Larry's shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head with a defeated sigh. He felt sadness gnaw on his heart, but squeezed his eyes shut to deny the tears that threatened to fall. He did not want to cry now. Not while Octavius was suffering worse than he. He could grieve later.

"Ahkmenrah," He asked, sitting heavily in his chair. The pharaoh looked up at him with mournful eyes. "How long until sunrise?"

"I think…" Ahkmenrah paused, before glancing up at the clock hanging above the couch. "An hour or two."

Larry nodded. "And the Tablet? Should we shut it down early?"

Ahkmenrah thought for a moment, before nodding. "That seems wise. I feel we all need an extended rest. At least Octavius. The Tablet's power will not be fully out of Jedediah's system for a while. While it is still around him, he must not be touched."

"But Octavius just-"

"I know. But I do not believe it was enough to upset anything."

"Alright." Larry said, letting out a deep sigh. "I'll tell him-"

"No." Ahkmenrah said, shaking his head wearily. "It would be best if he did not know. Just move him to his exhibit once you have sent us to sleep."

Larry sighed, and waved for the Egyptian to follow him. They walked out of the office quietly, shutting the door gently behind them. They followed the usual hall to Ahkmenrah's exhibit, neither of them speaking. They passed a few exhibits here and there, but did not reply to their greetings nor puzzled looks. On their way they ran into Teddy, and Larry explained what had happened.

"I see," Teddy said, a deep, sad frown on his face. "I will spread the word of the early morning. Give me about half an hour."

"Alright." Larry said, nodding once. He allowed the president to pat his shoulder, before heading off to do his business. He then motioned for Ahkmenrah that it was time to continue on their way.

"Larry," Ahkmenrah asked, climbing into his sarcophagus once they reached his exhibit. "Will you be alright?"

"Hm?" Larry asked, looking up from staring at his hands.

"Will you be alright?"

The night guard quickly nodded, his eyes distant as if in thought. The Egyptian sighed, and reached out a hand, balancing himself on the edge of his small coffin. Larry looked at it, before taking it and giving it a small shake, his head once again staring at the floor. With his other hand, Ahkmenrah patted his friend's shoulder, before pulling away.

"I believe our early sun is upon us." He said, lowering himself into the gold sarcophagus. The thought of going in early bothered him, but he kept his complaint to himself.

"Right." Larry said. He was about to turn the middle piece of the dhinning artifact when he heard Teddy's voice behind him.

"Everyone's in there place, Lawrence." The president said. His expression was stony, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Will you give me time to get into position?"

"Yeah." Larry said, slumping against the wall. "Five minutes."

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Octavius stood on his knees beside the makeshift bed, his head resting on folded arms, one hand gripping the waxen hand of his friend. He was only asleep, he told himself. The stillness was just sleep. It had to be sleep. Sometimes the Tablet messed up. Surely the cowboy was only so still and wax because of some small malfunction. It must be that. He would wake up. Tomorrow night he would be wide awake and grinning. Perhaps scolding the Roman for his worry.

He could not be dead, and Octavius would not accept for a second that his best friend of many years was dead. That was not how things worked in the museum. No one ever died unless the sun got them. the Tablet fixed everything. Once he had fallen and scraped his arm. It had been healed during the day and the next night was completely gone. So it must heal Jedediah. It had to.

"Jedediah," He said, squeezing the frozen hand. "I will be here when you wake, my friend. I will see you in the next evening. I promise I will not leave until you wake up. I never break my promises to you." He was silent, for a moment questioning what he was doing. His mind was numb, but a small part of it told him the truth. He was choosing to ignore it. "You will be alright. Tomorrow night we shall explore. I feel like exploring with you. I think you will like that. Then we can sit and chat, perhaps. Right?" He was silent again, fighting off the knowledge that his friend was dead. "R-Right…?"

After another moment of struggle he gave up the idea that Jedediah would wake up, and choked down a gasp of breath as he bowed his head, letting out a strangled sob. His shoulders shook as he gave way to more sobs, and he erased all hope from his mind.

He felt the cold, pricking sensation of induced sleep, and his senses blacked out as the Tablet took over.

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Larry sighed as he slumped down on his couch, his keys dropping from his hands. He had not turned on the light, and was sitting in darkness, staring out at the New York skyline. He looked down at the streets full of cars, before rising to his feet and closing the curtains. Jed had loved cars. And the last thing he wanted to think about was the cowboy.

As he stumbled into the bathroom for a shower he let his mind drown in his guilt. It was his fault Jedediah was gone. He should have made it a point to reach him sooner. Maybe to force the man to give him back. But that would not have helped. Jed had been roped by the neck, and so had Larry. Nothing he could have done would have helped the situation.

He sighed as he got dressed in his sleeping clothes, thinking deeply. Someone at the museum was bound to be blaming themselves as he was now. Octavius and Ahkmenrah most likely. He'd known Ahkmenrah long enough to know that he was probably blaming himself, having no choice but to be surrounded by his subconscious thoughts as he slept forcefully in his sarcophagus. It was not his fault though. He could not have known that the spell he'd placed on the cowboy would harm him Octavius, too, was probably blaming himself. Or worse. He was probably trying to ignore his friend's death. He'd been just as helpless, if not more, than Larry had been. And the night guard knew he would be hit the hardest.

He lay awake, staring up at the ceiling as he thought of the poor cowboy. His end had been painful and sudden, and would shake the museum for many weeks. And he himself would not sleep for many nights.


End file.
